


Phantasms

by harrisonbored



Series: Two Pilots and a Baby [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gay Dads Han and Luke, Gen, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 09:25:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13567626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrisonbored/pseuds/harrisonbored
Summary: Luke sees something from another lifetime. Han and Poe fix it.





	Phantasms

**Author's Note:**

> people wanted this on tumblr so here it is! two pilots and a baby au! this is also the first time i’ve posted something i’ve written since 2014 i’m fucking terrified!
> 
> literally all of my problems with the sequel trilogy could be solved by han and luke being gay for each other
> 
> fuck kylo ren, rian johnson can fight me 1v1 in the denny's parking lot, and harrison ford best drag his sorry ass back for episode ix or i will die
> 
> this is turning into a series btw so more backstory will be revealed in due time

_Luke blinks in the dimness of the late afternoon light. He recognizes where he is. It's an old rebel base, abandoned years ago. Even longer ago now, it seems. Luke can see a distorted, aged reflection of himself in the rusted metal doors, burst open by force of the first order, by the command of Kylo Ren._

_By the command of his nephew._

_Luke stands firmly in place. He's not really there. It's like a dream- an out-of-body experience. It drains him of energy quickly, and he knows he doesn't have long after this._

_The shots from the walkers fly through, as do Kylo's blows with his 'saber. Eventually, Luke knows he cannot last any longer. He gives up, returns to his body, ready to become one with the force-_

"Luke?" 

_That voice- it's not from-_

"Luuuuuke?"

Luke blinks awake from sleep and turns his head to see what's awakened him. A little boy, all tan skin and curly hair, peers over the edge of the bed at him. 

"Hey, Poe, what's wrong?" Luke asks softly, running a hand through his hair. 

"I can't sleep," Poe says, rocking back and forth on his feet.

"Do you feel sick?" At age eight, Poe always goes to sleep on his own, unless he's not feeling well. 

Poe shakes his head. 

"What's wrong?" comes a groggy voice from the other side of the bed. 

"Poe can't sleep," Luke explains, shifting to look over at his bedmate. 

Han Solo sits up and rubs his eyes with his palms. "'S he sick?"

"He says he isn't."

"Hmm," Han mumbles, leaning on his hands. He reaches out, over Luke's hips, and presses the back of his hand to Poe's forehead. 

"Not warm," Han comments. 

"I said I wasn't sick," Poe replies pointedly. 

"Do you want to sleep with us?" Han asks, a little tired of beating around the bush. He knows what Poe wants, even if it's a bit out of character. 

"Please," Poe says almost too politely, making Luke laugh a little. "'M gonna go to the 'fresher first, real quick?"

"All right, but be snappy, we still got work to do tomorrow," Han says, waving him off. Poe scurries off to the en-suite refresher, closing the door behind him.

"What were you dreaming about?" Han asks, after a moment of silence. 

"How do you-"

"You kicked me in your sleep. You know you sleep like the dead unless something's botherin' you."

Luke is silent for a moment. He reaches out and takes Han's hand in his, running his fingers over his knuckles. 

"Do you ever think about what would have happened if you and Leia had gotten together? Permanently, that is. Gotten married and had kids and all that."

"Not really," Han admits. "Haven't thought about gettin' romantic with Leia since Endor, really."

"I just had a really bad feeling about it, is all," Luke says softly. "Like, if you two had a kid, it wouldn't end well."

"Hey!" Han replies, mockingly offended. "I'll have you know, Leia and I would only almost kill a kid together, we wouldn't actually kill it!"

Luke giggles a little under his breath. "That's not what I meant."

"Was it a force thing?" Han asks. He's become pretty casual about the force in the past few years. He no longer sneers about it when he mentions it, sincerity in his voice that the Han Luke knew nearly a decade ago would have never had. 

"Maybe. I was older, much older. He... My nephew... You and Leia's son... He wielded a lightsaber. He was all reckless and impulsive and deeply, deeply hurt. I felt like I... Like I had failed him."

"Hey, don't talk like that," Han warns, putting a hand on Luke's shoulder. "Even if it was a force thing, that kid doesn't exist. You're a damn good father, for what it's worth, and Poe's 'bout as force-sensitive as a box of rocks, so no worries about him running you through with a 'saber any time soon."

"I didn't say he ran me through with a 'saber," Luke murmurs, tone falling. 

"I could sorta tell something worse than just watching some dumbass kid swing a laser sword around had happened. You kicked me," Han points out. 

Luke shrugs. "I'm just, I'm scared about the whole Jedi temple thing. What if it goes wrong? What if I fail my future students like I might have failed my nephew?"

"First of all, that nephew doesn't exist. Or at least not that version of him, and not yet. I don't think Leia's planning on settling down and having children any time soon, so don't worry about that.

"Secondly, if he's on the dark side, which I'm assuming he was, it means that he made a choice. Even you making a mistake doesn't make up for someone making bad choices of their own volition.

"And third, stop worrying so damn much," Han finishes, reaching out to ruffle Luke's hair. Still a dark blond, almost brown. 

Luke leans over to kiss Han's scar, before navigating up to plant a kiss on his lips. "Thanks," he whispers, mouth still pressed against Han's.

"No problem," Han smiles against his lips. "Making sure you're not too hard on yourself all the time is one of my husbandly duties."

"Ewww!" Poe, completely disgusted, enters the room and glares at them. 

"Do you have to do that?" Poe asks, looking them up and down. He walks over to the bed and climbs up in between them.

"Yes," Han replies, very seriously. "Just like I have to... tickle you to death!" Han exclaims, reaching down to tickle Poe's ribcage and pecking little kisses on Poe's cheeks and forehead. 

"Han- Han- Daddy, stop!" Poe flails wildly around, and neither Han nor Luke pause to mention what Poe just called him. But it doesn't go unnoticed. 

"You ready for bed now, my little spacer?" Luke asks, leaning over to still Han's hands. 

Poe nods gently, leaning over to hug Luke's neck. Luke reciprocates, smiling widely. 

"You forgettin' about me already?" Han says, feigning hurt. "I get it, Luke saves you from being tickled to death and suddenly you just love him. I get it."

Poe laughs and springs up to give Han a hug, too. Han holds him tightly for a long moment, keeping eye contact with Luke. Luke still looks anxious, but Han mouths 'it's okay,' before releasing Poe. 

Poe settles into the pillows between his adoptive fathers. Han pulls the blankets over him, and Luke smooths them out with a kiss on his forehead. By the time Luke cuts the lights out again, Poe's half asleep already. 

Han rubs Poe's back, which basically puts him immediately to sleep, something that dates back to the night that Leia showed up on their doorstep with Kes and Shara Bey's son. Just one look at Leia and they both knew that the mission to one of the few remaining Imperial planets really had gone south. 

Luke blinks slowly, watching Poe's chest rise and fall. He's gradually shaking off the last cobwebs of his dream- because it's really nothing more than that: a dream. 

Han reaches out and tucks Luke's hair behind his ear. He mouths 'it's okay,' one more time before shutting his eyes. He leaves his hand close to Luke, though, and Luke takes it immediately. 

No matter what could have happened, Luke is happy that this is the path that they had chosen.


End file.
